


Tangoed, Tangoing, Tangone

by henriettas



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, M/M, Pining, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tango, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Seventh Year, dance class, spoiler: the boys Will tango
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriettas/pseuds/henriettas
Summary: Gym classFriday afternoonYear 7Section: Magical CustomsAssignment: Choreograph a dance routine, following the existing customs of the dance given to you. Study the incorporation of magic in traditional and modern types of dance.Examination: Public performance at the end of the semester.-------An excuse I made for the boys to tango, Penelope Bunce to relax and have Fun, and for Agatha Wellbelove to experience independence (indepenDANCE, if you will)
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 32
Kudos: 135





	1. Assigning the Assignment

**SIMON**

Class is almost over. I’m running side by side with Penny along the far wall of the gym when Miss Verne claps twice to signal the end of our circling.

”All right, students, gather up!” 

We make our way to the other end of the hall. Penny fans herself and yanks the collar of her shirt to cool herself down. ”I fucking hate running”, she mutters just as we get to the half circle that’s forming around where Miss Verne is waiting.

”Oh, come on, Penelope! Running is fun!” Keris’s roommate calls from across the group, stretching her arms above her head.

”Fuck off, Andrea,” Penny pants out, hands on her knees. She’s never been one for running; but it, as well as her anti-gym spirit, gets extra bad the week leading up to her period (she tells me about it in excruciating detail, at any given opportunity).

”Feeling the burn in your calfs, your lungs expanding—” she cuts off when Penny looks up at her. If looks could kill, Andrea would be well on her way to an early grave. I send an awkward smile her way.

The last of our classmates join the circle, all in various states of exhaustion; I know my own face well enough to know that I’m redder than a tomato myself. The only one who looks even the slightest bit composed is Baz, the bastard. He’s not even breaking a sweat. Arsehole. 

”So, class, starting next week we will be dancing. Miss Alfrida and I have put our heads together and arranged so that the dance part of her Magical Customs class and the dance section of this class will coincide. That means this assignment will be used to grade two classes in one go. You will have six weeks to research the customs and choreograph a dance routine following those customs. The final examination will be a public performance at the end of this semester.” 

Penny grunts next to me. She doesn’t like dance either. Miss Verne continues to explain the intricacies of the assignment for another minute before pausing. ”Any questions?”

A bunch of hands go up. Miss Verne points to Gareth. ”Yes?” 

”Miss Verne, is there any way to not do the practical part of the assignment?”

”No, unless you want to fail both classes. Yes, Miss Anderson?” She turns to Keris.

”Miss, do we get to choose our pairs? Or will you be doing that?”

”I have split you all into groups of varying sizes. Actually, now that you’ve reminded me, please rearrange yourselves to stand with your roommate if you aren’t already doing so.”

Ugh. Baz. Of course. I fucking hate this. He’s glaring at me from the other side of the circle. For a second, I consider just sucking it up and going along with it, but I really don’t want to. Before I can say anything to Miss Verne, Baz beats me to it. Fucker.

”Miss Verne, my roommate is a danger to himself and others. Standing next to him would be placing myself in his direct line of fire.” Arsehole. If anything, I should be the one worried.

Miss Verne sighs and rubs her eyes with thumb and pointer finger of her right hand. ”Mister Pitch, you have shared a room with Mister Snow for years. Standing next to him will not do you any harm at this point.”

”I object, Miss. Look at him. He is quite literally fuming, he could blow any minute!” I fucking hate him. And that he’s not wrong about the literal fuming. I consider, again, to just take it — but now I really, really don’t want to. Miss Verne starts talking but I interrupt her.

”Mister Pitch—”

”Well at least I’m not a fucking VAMPIRE!” Baz actually growls at me. He looks like hes’ about to respond but Miss Verne gets to it first. 

”Oh will you just STOP IT already! _BOTH OF YOU! Please_ just go stand next to each other, we’re all tired, it’s Friday afternoon, let’s try to get this done with as smoothly as possible, ok?” She covers her face with both of her hands and mumbles under her breath, ”I should have never fucking left Norway, what the _fuck—_ ”

Baz makes his way over in the dead silence of the gym, henchmen in tow.

”Snow,” he bites out when he gets to where I’m standing, that fucking eyebrow up as always. I sneer back at him.

”Baz.” I take a step closer to Penny and, having joined her before the screaming started, Trixie. I can feel myself burning.

Miss Verne exhales, and smoothes her hair out of her face. ”Are we all right then, boys?”

”Yes, Miss.” We say in unison.

”Good. Now, as I was saying: we have split you into groups, pairs, and solo performances, to fit the different types of dance you’ve been assigned. These teams are based on your roommate pairs. You will, of course, be incorporating magic into your choreographies according to each dance’s traditions, —” I look at Baz. He’s staring ahead blankly. I look away.

**BAZ**

So, it seems I’m going to be dancing with Snow. Miss Verne goes on to explain the reading material and the sources we’ll have at our disposal, but I’m not really listening (which doesn’t mean I’m not registering it in the back of my mind. Staying ahead of Bunce while antagonizing Snow for years on end takes work). I can feel the heat radiating off of Simon’s body. Human furnace. He keeps looking at me. I don’t look at him. I’m not going to look at him. 

**SIMON**

I look at Baz again while Miss Verne goes on about the assigned reading. He’s still completely blank faced. Probably plotting how to ”accidentally” kill me while dancing. His gaze snaps to mine and I turn away way too fast to be discreet. He scoffs evilly. I turn to Penny instead.

”Hey Pen.”

”Yeah?” She whispers back, trying not to disturb Miss Verne.

”Do you think we’ll be in the same group?”

Before she can answer, Baz snickers. Leaning closer to Dev and Niall, he pretend mumbles, ”I’d rather slip a merwolf the tongue than dance with a Bunce, a dunce, and a pixie,” and before I know it, I’m stomping up to him, ignoring Penny’s frantic whispers of my name. Baz raises that fucking eyebrow at me while I’m closing the short distance.

”Well, lads, speak of the dunce and he shall appear.” He sneers.

”What’s your problem, Baz? Why do you always have to be such a fucking dick?” I’m disrupting Miss Verne again, but I honestly couldn’t give less of a shit anymore. 

He narrows his eyes at me, and leans in closer. His face mere centimeters from mine, he hisses at me, ”Better a fucking dick than the Mage’s dimwit pawn, Chosen One.”

The next second my fist connects to the side of his jaw, and I’m tugging at his t-shirt while Baz tries to yank my hair out. I growl at him and manage to get a few more blows in before he elbows my ribcage and I go down, kicking my heel into the back of his knee, dragging him with me. Before the fighting can evolve into something more serious, Miss Verne spells us apart, sighing.

”Seriously?!”

I feel bad about interrupting her, I really do. But I’m angrier at Baz than I am remorseful to Miss Verne. He glares at me, as if any if this is my fault rather than his own. ”Fucker,” I spit.

”Very eloquently worded of you, Snow,” his hair is messed up, and the collar of his shirt is a bit loose. ”Who knows, maybe the Mage’s speech therapy sessions worked after all.”

I’m not going to tackle him again (I can’t, either way. My arms are still spelled to my sides). He’s an absolute twat dickwad.

”You’re an absolute twat dickw—”

”Okay, ENOUGH.” Miss Verne interrupts me (rightfully so, I suppose). ”You two are impossible to work with. After class, you will both go to the Mage’s office and have a sit down with him, understood?”

”Fine,” I say. I hate disappointing the Mage. Makes me feel like pure shit.

”…yes, Miss.” Baz replies. I know he doesn’t like getting written up for fighting either (not because his family gets mad. They don’t, as long as it’s me he’s fighting. He just doesn’t like wasting time he could have otherwise spent studying, or draining rats in the catacombs).

”For now though…” She raises her voice to adress the rest of the class as well, breaking the soft hum of conversations around us, ”Listen up, class! These are your assigned dances, which you will be performing in groups of eight, four, in pairs, or solo in six weeks time.”

”Elspeth Olssen and Carla Warren; you will be doing swing dance,” Miss Verne says, handing the girls a paper with the words ”SWING DANCE” in bold at the top. 

”Agatha Wellbelove; interpretive, solo.” 

She goes on, dividing our classmates into groups, pairs, and solo’s. She gets to Penny, ”Penelope Bunce and Trixie Vidalia; Swedish bugg!”, who groans next to me, taking the info paper while Trixie squeals with joy (she’s in the school’s dance group, and very excited).

Next is me and Baz. God, I fucking hope we get something easy. Something non-touchy.

”Basilton Pitch and Simon Snow…” she pauses, and then smirks. ”Since the two of you are so very passionate in your relationship to one-another, I’m expecting you to put that passion to use here. You will be performing: the Argentine tango!”

I accept the paper she hands me, and look at it. Next to the text ”ARGENTINE TANGO” there is a small, grainy picture of a couple holding each other extremely close. The opposite of what I wanted. What the fuck. This is why I don’t pray. I turn to Baz to let him have a look. He’s completely blank again.

**BAZ**

Oh. Oh no.

Simon is waving the paper at me, but I don’t need to look at it to know what the Argentine tango is.

I am a healthy (albeit undead) homosexual teenage boy. There is only so much I can take.

…

_I’m going to die a fiery death, crotch to crotch with Simon Snow._


	2. Avoidance, Annoyance, Accordance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Baz is a bit of an ass for a whole week for No Reason. Also features:  
> \- Penny POV!  
> \- Wake up call regarding grades for Simon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- (and me, desperately hoping that the British magical school system works similarly to the Normal Swedish one so I won't have to do extra research)

**SIMON**

While Miss Verne continues handing out papers to the rest of the class, I look over mine and Baz’s sheet once more. I don’t really understand how its supposed to work; the one picture doesn’t tell me anything more than us having to hold onto each other, and the notes about the history of the dance and it's traditional magic use aren’t helping me figure anything out.

Whatever. I’m sure Baz will be more than happy to lecture me about it. Posh git.

”Alright then, class! We will begin dancing next week; until then, start thinking about your dance and, if you’re not dancing solo, start talking to your partner or teammates about it! You are free to begin your research if you feel up to it, but you don’t have to until after next lesson,” Miss Verne says. With a slight clap, and a ”Have a nice weekend!”, she sends us out to the locker room to shower and get changed. Baz rushes straight out without showering or changing, and I don’t have time to ask him about our assignment before Penny meets up with me outside the gym to drag me off to tea.

**BAZ**

I get to mine and Snow’s room, and take the fastest shower of my entire life. Simon is going to ask me questions about the dance; I could tell as much from his fish-like gaping earlier when he tried to decipher the paper Miss Verne handed him. I hate how much I love his dumb, perfect fish face.

After my shower I get dressed and leave our room again. I spend the rest of the evening in the catacombs, avoiding Snow — as if that’ll do anything to keep me from imagining his rough and calloused hands holding my own, or me sliding my arm around his waist, or him wrapping a leg around one of mine, or me getting to slide a palm down his chest. 

I stay there until I’m sure Snow must have gone to sleep, and then I sneak up the stairs at Mummers. As fast and soundless as I can, I push the door open and gather my nightwear (which I should have taken with me earlier), before leaving again. A half asleep Niall opens the door to his and Dev’s room when I knock, and hands me a spare pillow and a fleece blanket for me to bundle up in. I get changed, and settle down into the cushioned chair Niall’s nan insisted he bring with him last year. Sleep comes easy, and so do the dreams of Simon.

**SIMON**  
Somehow, I don’t see Baz anywhere outside of class for the next week. No matter how fast I sprint to get out of the classroom before him, he still manages to get out and vanish before I catch him. All of his stuff is still in our bathroom, so he must be there sometimes at least, but I never see him. I don’t know why he’s avoiding me — I literally haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. 

———

Before I know it, its Friday afternoon again, and the first day of our actual dance classes.

During warm up, Baz runs far ahead of me, still avoiding me. He keeps his distance on the other side of the room from me until Miss Verne calls us all to the center of the gym. She tells us to pair up, roommate wise, and asks Agatha to join her at the front of the class (since she’s the only one our grade without a roommate to pair up with).

**BAZ**

Miss Verne leads Wellbelove through a simple Walts box step, while narrating their movements and leg coordination to the rest of the class. 

”And so, as you all can see, the lead begins the step by… stepping forward with their left foot, and the follower begins by moving their right foot backwards at the same time. This is to avoid any collision of feet. If it makes it easier for you, you can imagine two circa 30 centimeter rods between you and your partners opposite ankles, which push and pull your feet around at an equal distance at all times.”

She walks us through the rest, and stops after completing a few run-throughs of the step sequence.

”Any questions? If not, turn towards your partner and get into position, and we’ll run though it together.”

Around us, our classmates pair up. I don’t move at all, and Simon scrunches his eyebrows at me. I’ve spent all week avoiding him. Part of it just to mess with him (I may be hopelessly in love with him, but I have a reputation to uphold and I can’t have people think I’ve gone soft on him), but its also been to avoid what he does to my heart. I know that requesting another partner would be as fruitless as Simon’s attempts at switching roommates has been in the past, and that this forced (but on my end, welcomed) proximity of ours will be inevitable. Even so, I can’t help yearning for it, and Simon.

Simon— Snow— has turned to Miss Verne, and is now shooting off reason after reason as to why he should be handed a new partner. Like I said, its not going to work, so I leave him to it while my mid goes other places. 

What if I just… went with it? Without any complaints? It would be shitty of me to take advantage of the situation, but I’ve been far shittier to Snow in the past. Dancing with him, without causing any actual harm… It might even be nice. 

He might even like it (I doubt it).

”Snow,” I interrupt his rambling. Both him and Miss Verne look at me. I exhale, and lift my hand for him to take, ”Let’s just do it.”

**SIMON**

Baz’s hand reaches toward me, and I take a step back. He’s avoided me for no discernible reason for a whole week, and I’m not about to fall for whatever he’s plotting.

”Miss Verne, I really need another partner, Baz is plotting something—” I start, but Baz interrupts me again.

”Let’s just go with it, Snow. There’s no use arguing it,” he says, as if he hasn’t spent every day since the start of first year planning my demise.

My eyes flit between Baz’s face and his hand. ”Are you _serious?_ ” He can’t be. 

”Mr Pitch, Mr Snow, will you please just get on with it? We have a schedule to follow.”

I turn to look at Miss Verne, but don’t get any words out before she’s approached us and is grabbing mine and Baz’s wrists in turn and placing our hands where she wants them. 

”I—” 

”So! There you go, let’s move along then, class!”

She walks us through the motions again, but all I can focus on is my extremely clammy hand holding Baz’s. We both have a hand on each others waist, and I’m stuck staring into Baz’s neck. His head is turned away, and I can see the bump of his neck bob every once in a while when he swallows. I’m trying my best to stay as far away as I can (while still keeping a firm enough grip that Miss Verne won’t lecture me about it), but I can smell him anyway. The only people I’ve ever consciously smelled before are Agatha and Penny, but Baz smells different. There’s something about it… Maybe its because he’s a boy? Do I smell like this too? (Probably not. I use the school issued soap, and Baz uses some fancy body wash with an almond on the packaging).

Baz pushes and pulls me though the steps, and his hair sways with us when we move sideways. I try to keep an eye on my feet, but Baz swallows again and I stumble. I feel his foot under mine, and then he’s shoving me away with a grunt.

” _Honestly,_ Snow! For once in your life, can you just focus on something?! Merlin!”

My heart’s pounding in my ears, and our classmates are all looking at us. 

”Fuck off, Baz, maybe I’d be able to focus if you weren’t trying to _fucking eat me_ just now!”

”Eat you?! What the _fuck_ are you on about—”

”Whatever!” I half shout, heading out to the dressing room, ”’s not like I can work with a vampire anyways!” 

I yank my shoes on and run out into the light drizzle, ignoring Ms Verne and Penny calling for me. I need to fight something.

**PENNY**

After Simon runs away from the gym, Baz actually seems to have enough self-awareness to look a bit guilty, to my surprise. I stay until the end of class before I rush out to find Simon. Sometimes he just needs some space to cool down, and I try my best to let him have that even though I’d love to be there for him.

I find him in the Woods, covered in sweat, rain, and wood chips. He’s standing in a clearing that I’m pretty sure didn’t exist before today, and the air smells like wet wood and sap.

”You alright there, Simon?” I ask him as I sit down on one of the older tree stumps nearby (I spell it dry first. Just like Simon, everything out here is completely soaked through).

”I’m fine,” he huffs, _clearly_ not fine. There’s another swing and thwack as he charges at one of the trees again, yanking his sword out and going for another strike right after. 

”Miss Verne wants to have a word with you in her office after tea,” I tell him when he calms down again. Simon growls and goes back to hacking away at the now significantly smaller tree. 

Between swings and kicks, he asks me who Baz ended up dancing with instead. He stops fighting the choppy stem of the tree when I answer, ”Agatha”, and lets his sword dissipate into nothing. 

I know him and Agatha split again a few weeks ago, but I guess Simon isn’t completely over it yet.

**SIMON**

Penny hands me my bag and the clothes I left in the boys locker room (Gareth picked them up for her), and we walk back to the school grounds together, sharing the umbrella she brought. After we’ve had tea, and I’ve stuffed myself full of scones, I get changed and head over to Miss Vernes office in the faculty hallway. She opens the door for me, and gestures for me to sit down on the chair on the opposite side of her desk.

She takes a seat in her own chair, and begins. ”Mr Snow. I’m going to get straight to the point of this meeting, if that’s alright with you?”

I nod, and she goes on. ”Your grade so far in gym is fine, you are an active participant and you follow the instructions given to you… but Miss Alfrida has informed me that your performance in the Magical Customs course is far below acceptable.” She sighs and leans back. ”We, the faculty, are aware of the ongoing dispute between you and Mr. Pitch, but unless the two of you can work together on this assignment both of your grades will be lowered severely. For you, personally, that means being at risk of not graduating.”

”But doesn’t that mean Baz wouldn’t be graduating either? If we both fail the assignment? Surely his family wouldn’t accept that.” I say.

”Mr. Pitch has high enough grades on the other assignments from earlier this year to weigh up a potential fail and still graduate. You, to put it frankly, don’t.”

”… does the Mage know that I’m failing?” I don’t like disappointing the Mage, after everything he’s done for me. I hate disappointing him.

”Not that I know of, no. But I will have to contact him about it if this continues, since he is your guardian.”

I must make some type of pitiable face at that, because Miss Verne gets up from her chair and hunches down next to where I’m slouching in mine. She puts her warm and heavy hand on my upper arm. ”Simon. Although we can’t change who your roommate is, nor the fact that you’ve been split into these groups for this assignment, we only want what’s best for you.” She pats my shoulder and stands up before continuing. ”I suggest you and Mr. Pitch try to work through your differences or at least try to reach some kind of compromise, okay?”

This feels, to me, like pure and utter horse shit. As if I haven’t tried to be civil with Baz. As if they have no choice but to pair us up, meanwhile they have no problem splitting up other roommate pairs for the solo performances. But I know from experience that arguing doesn’t do anything. The Crucible weighs heavier than any argument I could ever make. 

So I give in, and leave. Miss Verne looks relieved when I head out, and closes the door behind me with a ”Good luck!”, as if that’ll help at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Written because people over on instagram wanted me to try writing a fic based on some art I made! Hope people like it!


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